


Trouble, Thy Name Is Steelgrave

by Natashasolten



Series: Pennsylvania Series [4]
Category: Wiseguy
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Pennsylvania series, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-26
Updated: 2011-11-26
Packaged: 2017-10-26 13:59:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/284067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natashasolten/pseuds/Natashasolten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sonny, ever the "fixer," takes a stab at trying to remedy some of the many problems in Vinnie's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trouble, Thy Name Is Steelgrave

(sequel to “I Know You Really Love Me,” “New Beginnings,” and “One Summer Day.”)

 

...you  
my unending light,  
my lacklustre light,  
written on the edges  
of my life...

\--Johannes Brobowsky

 

It had been too hard for Sonny to come up with any reason to leave for the day. Vinnie was naturally suspicious. So instead of lying, he omitted.

Dusky morning light through the front windows made Vinnie’s hair violet and hazy blue and nut-brown. He looked slightly dejected and slightly pissed.

“Why can’t I come with you?”

Sonny didn’t want to lie to him. “It’s just something I got to take care of myself. Okay?”

Vinnie shook his head. “You shouldn’t cross state lines.”

“I’m not. I’m allowed to be in Jersey and Pennsylvania.” That was a partial lie. He was planning on going to New York. A minimum four hour drive one way. But it was early. He hoped to be home by dinner.

“Why can’t you tell me what you’re doing?”

Sonny swallowed, looked away. “It’s just something I wanna check on. I’ll tell you later. I swear.”

Vinnie moved toward him until he was very close, eye to eye. “Tell me now.”

Sonny could smell him, soap and mint and coffee. He felt pulled into Vinnie’s orbit. Helplessly. The heat. The charisma. The pureness of just plain Vinnie. It was mesmerizing. But now he stepped back. “I just gotta check something out first. It’s not illegal or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Vinnie shook his head.

Sonny widened his gaze, lowered his voice. “Don’t you trust me, Vincenzo?”

Now it was Vinnie’s turn to back off. “Of course, but….”

“Okay, then. It’s settled. I’ll be back by dinner.”

The hurt look passed over Vinnie’s smooth face again. The blue eyes dimmed. The mouth turned down. Dammit. He was pouting, but not quite.

Sonny stepped forward, kissed him gently, and when Vinnie didn’t kiss back, he whispered, “Stop it.”

Vinnie made a face.

“You’re being a big baby,” Sonny muttered.

“Think what you want,” Vinnie said flatly, “but I’m still responsible for you.”

Sonny reached out and touched his hand, grasped it lightly. “I know.” Then he dropped it, turned, and walked out the front door.

He felt slightly guilty as he drove away. And maybe for good reason. Maybe this plan of his was entirely stupid. Maybe it would backfire in his face and he’d spend days or months navigating the consequences. But he had to do this. He had to know he’d tried.

And that was how he’d come to find himself parked in front a Catholic parish in Brooklyn right on time, with Father Pete Terranova looking svelte and trim in a long black robe meeting him in the parking lot.

Pete was friendly but cool as he shook Sonny’s hand. “Long drive?”

Sonny nodded. “Thanks for meeting me, Father.”

“Call me Pete, okay?”

Sonny gave him a flat smile. “All right, Pete.”

“I took the afternoon off, but before we go anywhere, can we sit and have a chat?”

Sonny nodded.

Pete continued. “We can use my office. But it’s a lovely day. There’re benches in the back, and shade trees.”

“That’ll be fine,” Sonny said.

When they sat, Pete faced him, older than Vinnie, brown hair thinning back from his forehead. His look was open, kind. It was strange to Sonny how little he looked like his brother. “How’s Vinnie?” Pete asked.

Sonny half-smiled. “He’s good. But I won’t lie that it hasn’t been hard on him. And I don’t just mean you and your mother. I mean everything. Everything he’s gone through in the past ten months, and even before that. Including the hard time I gave him.”

Pete frowned but smiled at the same time. “I understand.”

Sonny turned away for a moment. He folded his hands, put them to his mouth, closed his eyes. After a moment, he lifted his head. “I want to be frank with you, Pete. If you have questions, ask them. I’ll answer honestly.”

Pete bowed his head graciously. “And I’ll do the same.”

At that, a strange silence ensued between them.

Abruptly, Pete said, “I prayed for you once.”

Sonny looked up in surprise. “Why?”

“Don’t you remember? You asked me to.”

Slowly, Sonny contemplated that, trying to remember back. “Oh yeah. That. Thanks.”

Pete swallowed hard, then said, “If I’m not too forward…and don’t hit me if I’m wrong…but you two were…are lovers?”

Suddenly Sonny’s throat hurt. How could he do this? Talk about this to anyone? He hadn’t even alluded to it with the shrink in the hospital. And later, he’d clocked a guy in prison for even insinuating anything between him and Vinnie.

He took a deep breath and felt a tingling behind his eyes. He felt like a little boy again and the world was a strange and alien place that made absolutely no sense whatsoever. Lovers? At first…maybe. Now it seemed such a casual, noncommittal, almost cavalier word for what they’d been through together, what they were to each other. The question made him more defensive than he ever thought he might be about this. But he’d told Pete to ask the questions.

He turned to Pete, thinking how not brave he was about his personal life. Give him guns and boxing gloves and conspiracies to murder and he’d be fine, but this… When it came to Vinnie he just knew people would always have the wrong idea about the two of them. They weren’t just playboys. They weren’t just goofing around. They weren’t just “being gay or bi.” He’d barely admitted any of this to himself. Now, suddenly, he was shaking, one knee nervously bouncing. Are you lovers? Pete was asking.

People in his world were killed over such questions.

“If I say yes, would that be such a bad thing?” And his voice was quavering against that tingle in his eyes. Then, unbidden and to his horror, tears fell onto his cheeks too quick for him to stop or even contemplate how or why they were there. He felt all of a sudden broken open, exposed…a hand reaching out for a live wire…. I can’t do this.

“No, Sonny. It would not. Not to me.” Pete put his hand inside his robe and came up with a miracle. A Kleenex. He was probably used to this. He probably talked to disturbed people like him every day.

Sonny swiped at his face. “Father…Pete…I have to know. Does Carlotta hate me because I was the mob or because I am a man?”

Pete sighed. “Maybe both.”

Sonny said dejectedly, “Vinnie’s a good guy. He doesn’t deserve this.”

“I know he’s a good guy, Sonny. And he knows I know it.”

“Then why won’t he talk to you?” Sonny asked.

Pete shrugged. “I’m his brother. We were kids together. There was a lot we shared, a lot we talked about. But maybe sometimes there are things you can’t say…even to your own brother. For whatever reason. What about you? Would you have been able to talk to your brother about Vinnie?”

Sonny rolled his eyes. “I loved my brother, don’t get me wrong. But Dave was a real dick.” He’d have sent me away…or worse.

Pete chuckled and that was the first time Sonny saw the resemblance between the two of them. His laugh was Vinnie’s laugh. “I could be a real dick to Vinnie, too. It goes with the territory, big brother and all.”

Sonny let out a sharp laugh. Now he was hearing Terranova-isms. Vinnie was always saying stuff like: “It goes with the territory.”

“I’ve lost track of all the sins I’ve committed,” Sonny said abruptly. “But Vinnie…he’s only ever tried to do what’s right.” I wanted him dead. I wanted to die. And still he fucking saved my life.

“You don’t have to sell me on him,” Pete said.

“Carlotta?”

“I don’t think she’ll see you.”

“But we can try?”

“She doesn’t understand. She raised him with those morals of his. I’ve tried to tell her the very morals she taught us and the circumstances he found himself in led to the conflict inside him. His conflict came because he was unable to go against his heart. She doesn’t understand “heart.” She tells me there is bad and there is good, no middle.” Pete made a face. “She’s not an uneducated woman, but….”

“So you’re saying if I try to tell her what a wonderful son she has, it won’t make any difference?”

Pete looked away. “I don’t know.”

“But like you she must be guessing about…me and Vinnie….”

“You live together. Like I said, she’s not stupid, but…she’s probably guessed a dozen times, then just dismissed the notion. Ten months ago she told me she called him a fool to his face for wanting to save you. No offense, but I confess the thought that he was a fool crossed my mind as well.”

Now Sonny smiled. “And mine as well.”

Pete’s smile vanished when he said, softly, “He must’ve seen something we all missed. He must really care…about you.”

The tingle came again to Sonny’s eyes. He said in one breath, “He gave up everything for me, Pete.”

“You did, too.” He paused. “And that’s good enough for me, but our mother…I don’t know.”

“Vinnie deserves a chance…but she won’t even take his calls. Not even when your uncle died.”

“One thing I’ve learned in my time of being a priest. You can’t fix people, make them the way you want them to be. You can listen to them. You can try to empathize. You can answer questions, maybe even offer advice. But you can’t fix how they think or what they think. I can’t make a non-believer into a Catholic. It’s a waste of time to even try. That comes from within and only if they decide they want it. Change takes time. Maybe you can give them food for thought. But then you have to go away, leave them alone.”

Sonny nodded.

“But people can change, evolve,” he added. “I’ve seen it.” Pete stared intently at him, brows narrowed.

Sonny smirked. “You mean me? Ha! It’s just Vinnie’s contagious. It’s this irritating thing about him…” He chuckled.

A small breeze blew through the green leaves overhead, dappling the sunlight on the ground. Sonny smelled rosemary. It was the middle of the city but he found he could breathe deep.

“So,” Pete said, “you guys like Pennsylvania?”

“It’s nice. A solid house. Vinnie takes good care of the yard. He’s a little bit of a neat freak.”

“Yeah? He was a slob as a kid.”

Sonny laughed. “What kid wasn’t?”

“So, he doesn’t know you came today?”

Sonny shook his head. “Nope.”

“Think he’ll be mad?”

Shrugging, he replied, “Maybe.”

Pete grimaced, then gave a wry grin. “So. You want to go try our luck with Carlotta?”

Sonny took another deep breath. “Yep. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Let’s go then. You can leave your car. We’ll take mine.”

Together they rose and walked toward the parking lot.

*

Sonny had first met Carlotta in the hospital when she was being treated for her serious heart condition. He remembered she had invited him to Brooklyn for dinner and homemade cannollis when she got out. He had been elated that anyone related to Vinnie would want anything to do with him, since Vinnie kept his private life very private and sometimes acted embarrassed that old friends or relatives knew he worked for the Steelgraves. Now, of course, he knew why. And he knew Carlotta’s friendliness was merely a ruse to protect Vinnie from any repercussions concerning his job.

He’d ended up never acting on that invitation, and so had never actually been to Vinnie’s boyhood home.

Now as Pete pulled into the driveway, Sonny looked over the modest house and yard. It was a single story abode, a little smaller than the one he and Dave had grown up in. Sonny’s parents had not been rich even though his father was into mob dealings. It was only after Dave got firmly ensconced in the Atlantic City mob did he and Dave start to rise and, eventually, take over.

The house was white with dark trim. The lawn was freshly mowed, pretty, and one large tree shaded it.

Pete got out of the car. At the parish, he had traded his robes for jeans and a t-shirt. He looked casual and relaxed as he walked up to the front door. Sonny followed. He felt like he was prepared for whatever might happen. If Carlotta threw him out, so be it.

Sonny had consciously dressed nicely for this visit. He wore black slacks and a short-sleeved, button-up off-white shirt. His shirt was tucked, his belt was fastened, his shoes polished with a high shine. He was still slimmer than usual from his stint in prison, but he felt rather fine. Not that that would matter to Carlotta.

When the door opened, Carlotta greeted Pete warmly, hugging him, exclaiming over him. Finally, her eyes lit on Sonny. Her head came up abruptly. A glint of instant suspicion hardened her dark eyes.

Sonny lifted his chin, tilted his head to one side and waited.

Carlotta said, “Pete, why did you bring this man with you?”

Pete said, “He’s visiting me. He asked to speak to you. May we come in?”

She shook her head. Her mouth formed a grim line. “Is Vincenzo with you also?”

“No.” Pete waited, contemplating his mother with a sudden cool gaze, the same one he’d greeted Sonny with.

So, Pete really is on Vinnie’s side, Sonny decided.

With her accent thickening, probably from nervousness, Carlotta said, “No, I don’t think I can do that. Invite you in. Mr. Steelgrave, you are not welcome here.”

“Ma, he just wanted to speak with you for a moment. Five minutes.”

“No, I don’t think I can do that.”

Sonny said, “It’s all right, Mrs. Terranova. I do understand.”

Her mouth turned down as she looked at him, looked him over. “If you have something to say to me, say it now, and then please leave.” She turned to Pete. “Both of you.”

All of a sudden Sonny thought: What the hell did I think I’d say anyway? His mind went blank. He had tried to picture this moment, thinking he might turn on the charm, be the suave Italian boy all the moms from childhood loved having in their home when he was a kid visiting their kids…when he was very young. Now, even charm eluded him. He could only think of Vinnie cut off, trying his best but failing to be the all-perfect angel his mother had wanted him to be. It was as if Vinnie had only two choices in life to appease Carlotta, be a priest or a police officer. He was neither. Not now. And Sonny Steelgrave was to blame, of course. And now, here he was with Carlotta’s other son, the good priest son, and she was mad at him as well.

Frustrated, Sonny simply said, “Your son loves you. That’s all. That’s all I came to say.” He turned away.

“You can’t tell me about my son.” But Carlotta’s voice wavered.

Sonny turned back, eyebrows narrowing. “Yes. I’m afraid I can.”

“Well, I don’t want to hear it. Not from you.”

Pete said, “Ma, just listen to him for one minute. Please!”

“She doesn’t have to hear anything I have to say,” Sonny said to Pete. “It’s okay.”

“Well what about what I have to say?” Carlotta interrupted. “You ruined my son’s life!”

Sonny met her gaze, unflinching. She was quite formidable in her own right, ample, thick arms raised against her waist. Her eyes were a very strong feature, dark and sharp as knives. He’d met major mob-bosses who wielded less power. But Sonny was up for it. Without thinking, he took a step forward. “You want to talk about me? That’s okay. You can say whatever you want. It’s probably true. You can kick me off your lawn, turn away from me, hate me. That’s fine. I accept that. But you can’t do that to Vinnie. Do you hear me? It’s not fair.” And he realized he’d taken another step forward, and another.

Carlotta kept her ground, glared. “What is fair? What is fair.” She crossed her arms. “I will tell you, Mr. Steelgrave. You stay away from my son. That is what would be fair. Fair to him. Fair to us. Fair to all. But I think you will not even hear me, so why should I listen to you?”

Sonny had to admire the way she turned the tables and made this about everything but her own unfairness to Vinnie, to her own son. Sonny said, “You think your son doesn’t have his own mind? You think I have the kind of power over him to corrupt him? That he’s that weak?”

“I do not say my son is weak, but I do not know what is in his mind anymore.”

“Then take his calls. Please! Talk to him.”

Carlotta stepped forward. Now they were very close. “He will not be in my life, Mr. Steelgrave. Not as long as you are in his.”

Very softly, Sonny said, “You are making a big mistake.”

“I do not have to listen to anymore of this.” She turned quickly, went back into the house and closed the door.

Pete looked genuinely blindsided, which was odd since he had to know this encounter could not be pretty from any angle you looked at it. He had had to know his mother would never budge, or be reasonable. Sonny blinked, staring at him. “Well, that went well.”

Pete’s eyes widened. “Truthfully, Sonny, I’m surprised you’re still standing.”

Sonny sighed. “I don’t know what to tell Vinnie, or even if I should.”

“Tell him the truth. Tell him you came here and saw us. He’ll respect that…even if not right away.”

They got back into the car and drove in silence. Pete took Sonny back to his car. Before he got out, Pete said, “Tell Vinnie I want him to call me, even if it’s just about the weather.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Thanks for coming.”

“Sure.”

On the way home, Sonny made only two stops, one for a bathroom and some fast food, and the other for a new Nintendo game for Vinnie. He wasn’t sure, but he hoped maybe the gift would make Vinnie forgive him sooner.

*

Vinnie had Chinese take-out waiting. Sonny stepped through the door and could smell it immediately. His stomach growled. The drive had been long and the burger he’d had was digested long ago.

In an oddly awkward gesture, Vinnie touched him on the forearm as he entered the house. He didn’t embrace him. He didn’t say hi. He just touched him, then said, “So, how’d your day go?”

“Hmm. I smell Chinese.” Sonny smiled and moved forward. It was he who took Vinnie into his embrace, kissed him on the right cheek, while Vinnie stood as if only enduring it.

“I figured you might be hungry.”

“Yeah. It was a long drive. I’m tired. I’m famished. Let’s eat!”

Vinnie followed him into the dining room where everything was neatly laid out. “If it’s cold we can microwave it.”

Sonny nodded. “Looks good to me.”

They sat and started digging through containers. Vinnie did not look up as he said, “So are you gonna tell me where you went?”

“Yeah.” He poured rice onto his plate, dug into orange chicken, beef with broccoli, kung pao.

“So?” Vinnie had a fork in his hand but was not eating.

Sonny put his fork down, elbows on the table, drew his hands together and leaned his chin on them. He stared at Vinnie, who was looking about as gorgeous as he ever had in a black tank top with white ribbing, and gray cotton drawstring pants. Against his tanned skin a very thin silver chain gleamed on his chest. It held a silver Mercury dime charm, a gift from childhood from his grandfather on his father’s side. He wore it a lot.

Right now, all Sonny wanted to do was go to him, touch him, run his fingers through his hair. He wanted to feel Vinnie against him, pull him to his chest, listen for his heartbeat, his pulse, the secrets of his soul. He wanted to be with him so bad he ached.

He thought about Pete. You two were…are lovers? The word was right, correct and Sonny himself had thought of them that way. But his mind still wanted to reject that word as not good enough, not big enough. And, when Pete had said: You can’t fix people, Sonny realized only too well how true that was. Pete made an impression, that was for sure.

Sonny glanced down at his fingers, then back to Vinnie’s probing blue eyes. “I saw Pete.”

“W..what?” Vinnie looked utterly floored.

Sonny added, before he lost his nerve, “And Carlotta.”

Now Vinnie’s mouth dropped open. He sat back in his chair looking blank for a moment, confused. Then he said, “Sonny, what the fuck?”

Sonny shook his head slowly, lowered his eyes. “Don’t be mad at me. Please.”

“B…but….” Vinnie looked completely at a loss.

“Please,” Sonny said again.

Vinnie looked hurt, frowning, then pissed. “You didn’t have the right to do that.” His voice was not loud, just flat.

“Yes I did.” Sonny frowned back. “I had every right.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Then what are we doing, Vinnie? I sleep with you every night. I live with you. You set it up yourself. This isn’t a game. We’re not playing. It’s for keeps, for real. Isn’t it?”

When Vinnie didn’t answer, Sonny said, louder, “Isn’t it?”

“But they’re my family.”

Sonny sighed and scratched at his forehead. “Fine. Yeah. Whatever.”

“You should have asked me first!”

“And what would you have said, Vinnie? You would’ve demanded I not go…that I never even try to talk to them. Right?”

“I would’ve told you it was a waste of time.”

Sonny replied, “Sure. Of course you would. But you wanna know what I really think?”

Vinnie just glared.

“I think I embarrass you. You were ashamed back when you were undercover and nobody but Pete knew the real you, and now…now….”

Vinnie looked taken aback at that.

Sonny said, “Do you know how hard this was for me? And you haven’t even asked me what happened.”

Vinnie bit his lower lip, sank his forehead into his upturned hand. “Do I even want to know?”

“Pete wants you to call him, even if it’s just to talk about the weather. He misses you.”

Vinnie closed his eyes.

“Carlotta’s another story.”

“You talked to her?”

“Yes, Vinnie. I talked to her.”

“She spoke to you?” And now there was a trace of anguish in his voice.

“Yeah. And she told me under no uncertain terms to stay away from you.”

“Fuck, Sonny. She has a bad heart and everything.”

“Okay. Fine. You’re right. I’m a terrible person. But Pete was with me. He agreed to this. I didn’t just pounce on your mom.”

“Pete should not have….”

He interrupted. “Vinnie, Pete knew I had to make the gesture. I needed to make that gesture so your mom knows that in the future if she ever wants to change her mind, or talk to you or anything, that this door is open, that I’m opening it. I gave her permission to hate me, to blame me, even. But I made it clear she can’t do that to you. That’s all.” Sonny swallowed. Vinnie was staring at him with a different, softer look now. Sonny shrugged. “So how was your day?”

Very softly, Vinnie said, “You told her all that?”

Sonny let a faint smile touch his lips. “Yeah. For all the good it’ll do. Who knows if she even heard me.”

“And Pete heard you?”

“I told you he was there.”

“And she didn’t slam the door in your face?”

“Well, later she kinda did. We were on her porch the whole time.”

“She slammed the door on Pete?”

“Yeah. I’m real good at getting her mad at both her sons, aren’t I?”

“I can’t believe Pete helped you.”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

Vinnie looked suddenly sulky. “I dunno.”

Sonny sighed. Then he said softly, “Baby, I know how hard this is. I never would’ve been able to talk to anyone in my own family. But you’re different. And they’re different. And I’m not…not like you. I’m not good. Every day I called people to fix things for me and never asked questions as to how those things got fixed. I manipulated and destroyed lives. I didn’t care. It was only about what I could gain. I have that in me. In prison I had a lot of time to read, to think. I know now I have that ability to disassociate completely from reality and pretend it doesn’t affect me. But you don’t. You’re in the present. Things affect you in the now. They’re real. And you’re a truly good person, and other people should know it. So even if they don’t listen to me, I’m not gonna stop saying it. And maybe sometimes someone does listen. Pete listened.”

Vinnie looked at him through narrowed eyes like he was crazy, and said, “Ya gonna put up a billboard?”

Sonny pursed his lips. “If that’s what it takes.”

“You’re crazy.”

Yep. That about summed it up. Sonny thought about sitting with Pete under the trees. How hard it had been to even admit out loud that yes, he and Vinnie were lovers, were everything to each other. It made him paranoid and unsure…wanting to reach for that live wire and the bliss of utter release from a world gone mad…. Something inside his chest started to hurt and he hated it.

Suddenly, Vinnie was beside him, arm over his shoulder. He felt the side of his head pressed against Vinnie’s ribcage. And Vinnie was saying, “Son… Hey…I didn’t mean it like that.”

Sonny pushed him away lightly. “I know that,” he said, voice low. “Just…let’s eat our dinner, okay?”

Vinnie went down on his knees and grabbed both Sonny’s hands in his own. “Look at me.”

Sonny met his eyes. Vinnie was blurry around the edges. This was crazy. Who runs the mob in a major east coast city, tries to commit suicide, goes to prison and ends up living with the guy who sent him there and isn’t completely nuts? Any one of those things by itself could get you a padded cell.

Vinnie’s lips formed a straight line and he was watching Sonny intently. Softly, “You’re not crazy…the rest of the world…it’s…you’re just here with me…you’re just here with me….” He leaned in and kissed him.

Five seconds later…pressed tight, mouths merging…Sonny realized they were going to have dessert first.

*

The moon had fallen, broken into little pieces of buttery light that scattered across the bed. On top of the covers they were sweating, surging, arching into each other. It seemed they had been making love for hours, neither one wanting to stop. As the sun had set and the room darkened, they were still rolling, undulating, coaxing, caressing.

Toward the finish line, Vinnie was inside him, opening him deeper and deeper until there was nothing left he had not touched, revealed…all of Sonny’s disguises, the masquerades, the darkest shadows and hidden riddles of his soul. Sonny was holding onto him hard, hands slipping up and down his damp, smooth back.

Vinnie pushed into him over and over, gently but firmly, finally crying out. Sonny held his head, tangled his hands in his hair. His whole body shivered, alive, warm, vibrant. Vinnie’s love was like being awash in a fizzy, tingling warm sea where the tides surged slowly until finally they went up, up into the starlight and came crashing down in a frenzy of whirlwind and storm. He thought he might want to surf that edge forever, never return.

They could not stop touching each other. Vinnie kissed him down his chest and stomach; hands, chin, mouth going everywhere. Breathing was totally overrated at this point. This rapture. This luxury. This unending realm was all.

Every sensitive area of his body was known to Vinnie. He stimulated them all. Slowly. Reverently. When Vinnie finally allowed, then demanded his release, Sonny’s world went white. It was his third orgasm of the night, and the most powerful. A record-breaker for one session without a break.

He flew apart. Yelled. Cursed God. His skin was on fire and Vinnie was the cool nectar that was soothing him after the flames peaked. He was light on dark. A whisper in a hurricane. The spark in an eternal ice block of illusion.

Never in all his years of sleeping around had he ever visited the alien places that Vinnie took him to.

With Vinnie, he was not just humping and grunting. With Vinnie, he was on a goddamn vision quest.

He concluded that if he suddenly took up writing fucking poetry, he’d end it for good.

Vinnie’s breathing slowed and he said quietly, “Just hang me out to dry.”

Breathlessly, black and white spots still swimming before his eyes, Sonny said, “Gimme the date and time. I’m fucking calling it.”

 

*

They slept in a pile of covers and limbs until late the next morning. It was the phone that finally woke them.

Vinnie answered sleepily. “Hello?”

He said, “Uh-huh,” a few times, then sat up abruptly. Then he said, “Shit.” “Yeah,” and “Thanks.”

Sonny raised himself on one elbow watching him.

When Vinnie hung up, he turned. The look on his face was one of shock.

“What is it?” Sonny asked.

“Officer Stubbins.”

“Who?”

“That guy, the cop that kept pulling me over...”

“What about him?”

“He’s been murdered.”

Sonny felt a coldness close over his heart and he knew this was not going to look good for them. Much as he’d wanted that guy dead, no, this was not a good thing at all.

*

As Vinnie headed for the shower, Sonny said, “Before you say or think anything, I did not call Rudy.”

Vinnie turned. “I know.”

Sonny stood with his hip cocked, trying not to look indignant or put out. He probably looked ridiculous, actually, since he was stark naked.

“Well, just so you heard it from me. You know, trouble, thy name is Steelgrave, and all that.”

Vinnie said it again. “I know.” Then gave him a small smile and grabbed him. When he pulled back from the light embrace, he said it a third time. “I know.” Then he was in the shower and the bathroom was filling up with steam.

*

They had just walked into the living room when it happened. There was a pounding at the front door. Loud.

Sonny jumped a foot into the air. The sound startled him so thoroughly and without warning, that he felt a kind of jolt inside, followed by intense, confusing pain. He froze. Something was very wrong with his eyes for a second. A darkness started to creep in from the edges. The pounding came again, followed by a yell. “Open up!” and the door moved. His blood felt suddenly hot, burning, stinging. He couldn’t breathe. He forgot where he was for a second. He looked over his shoulder. Where was it? That escape. That out. That live wire.

Wait. What was he thinking?

Before Vinnie could open the door, it burst open and about ten guys with guns shot through the threshold.

Sudden dizziness. More pain. Sonny closed his eyes, felt lost again, felt himself start to hyperventilate. As plain as day, he saw Vinnie standing before him, staring at him, blood on his white Armani tuxedo shirt, blood on his face, hair dangling in his horror-filled eyes. He closed his eyes tighter. The old Rialto ceiling careened overhead, swaying, dizzying him. He was looking at rows of empty seats facing a black stage, a void.

People were coming. The enemy. He was surrounded. There was a pounding in his head, jackhammers cracking his skull. There was a scent like hot metal. And a pulse beat like the entire universe was on the verge of explosion.

Someone touched his wrists. Someone said, “Hey!” Cold metal clamped his hands. He swayed. He was on his knees. He was holding a broom. He was throwing wine glasses. He was hugging an old jukebox as if it held his very spirit.

Someone called his name. He couldn’t answer. His voice didn’t work. Echoing voices surged through his brain: “It goes with the territory, Sonny!” “This is about taxes, man!” “…just because your light burns brighter!” “Hey Vinnie, drop dead!”

Someone said, “Call 911.”

Another voice, “He’s faking!”

A familiar voice nearby, “You come barging in here, it’s enough to give anyone a heart attack, dammit!”

Another voice: “He’s not having a heart attack, he’s having a panic attack.”

And still another: “We have a warrant. We’re taking him in for questioning.”

Now Sonny recognized Vinnie’s voice: “Not before he gets checked out, dammit!”

Sonny felt a hand on his forehead, heard Vinnie say, “Breathe, just breathe.” That was when he realized he was lying on the hard floor, surrounded by cops. He gasped, muttered, “I can’t believe you’re a cop,” and the world swirled again. He said, “…never made it to the folding money.” He was straddling Vinnie, hitting him as hard as he could on that empty stage in that black void. He said, “What do you get outta this, another pin on your lapel?”

Vinnie said, “Shh, we’re not there anymore. We’re in Pennsylvania.”

But those words made no sense to Sonny. All he could think to say was, “How’re you gonna remember this, Vinnie?”

Then all of Hell went dark.

*

“Sometimes I get nervous when I see an open door…”

\- The Killers

 

Sonny was lying back on a hard white bed. He could barely think. He felt so groggy. A door opened that he could only hear, not see. There was a barrage of voices like a noisy wind. They sounded agitated, protesting something. Someone said, “He isn’t under arrest so move, sportshoes, before I move you myself!”

Another voice: “You can’t block entrance to a priest.”

Then he smelled Vinnie, spice and sweet, and the mattress moved and arms went around him. He opened his eyes and saw Frank and Pete, and pushed himself back a little in the bed, but Vinnie cupped the back of his head, cradling him, and dammit there was nothing he could do. So he closed his eyes, closed them all out, all but Vinnie, and he let Vinnie hold him in front of these other men even though it was weird, even though it made him thoroughly uncomfortable.

Finally he said, “It’s okay. I’m okay, Vinnie. I might be a bit crazy like you said last night, but I’m okay.”

Vinnie pulled back a little. “You better be okay.”

“I...just…I just had a flashback…or something.” He glanced again at Frank and Pete, who were standing closer now. They looked…all right. More concerned than anything else.

“I know.”

Sonny remembered the doctor saying something about post trauma stress. About anxiety attacks. And Sonny had said, “But that was almost a year ago.” The doctor had told him it didn’t matter.

Sonny tried to sit up. Vinnie helped him, raising the head of the bed.

He tugged at something in his arm. Vinnie said, “Don’t. Your electrolytes were low. They’re giving you stuff for it.”

Sonny grumbled, “That’s ‘cause you never let me have my dinner last night.”

To Sonny’s extreme delight, Vinnie’s face flushed. Vinnie sat up straighter but kept his grip on Sonny’s hand.

Pete said, “I’m glad you’re all right, Sonny.”

Sonny eyed him. “Thanks. That’s a hell of a long drive for you. I just made that same drive yesterday.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t mind it. I like to drive.”

“Yeah? So does Vinnie.”

Frank said, “Well, I drove two hours. Don’t I get a medal?”

Vinnie said, “I’ll make sure you do, Frank.”

Sonny eyed Frank. “When I get outta here, are they gonna take me straight to the station?”

“Not if I can pull some weight around. They have nothing on you guys.”

“But they had a warrant,” Vinnie said.

“Vince, you know whenever a cop is killed the judges will sign anything they ask for without even looking. They’re saying Sonny made a threat.”

“He never even said a word. I made the threat, if it even was a threat,” Vinnie said. “And I’m the one who filed the complaint against Stubbins months ago. Sonny never even knew until last week.”

“Yeah, I know. And they’ll no doubt want you in for questioning, too, Vince.”

“Fine. I’ll answer anything they want. But to come barging in? Cuff Sonny? What the fuck were they thinking?”

Frank raised his eyebrows. “You know what they were thinking, sport. Two words. Steel. Grave.”

Sonny chuckled. He never believed Vinnie when he said Frank had a sense of humor… until just now.

“Whatever,” Vinnie said. “I called my lawyer. So we’re good in that department.”

Sonny said, “I don’t care. They can ask me anything. But when the fuck do I get outta here? I refuse to spend the night.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t,” Vinnie said.

Pete and Frank hung out awhile longer and they all made small talk. After they left, Vinnie talked to the doctor and got Sonny released, but not before a uniform paid them a visit and Vinnie’s lawyer arrived. They came to an agreement. If Sonny was recovered enough, Vinnie and Sonny would drive to the local precinct the next day at two o’clock for questioning. The investigator on the case admitted that Stubbins had half a dozen complaints against him in the past year alone, and that all of them were being questioned. He did not apologize for breaking down their door, nor explain why that was done, but he did admit that neither of them were under arrest. Yet.

Finally, they were free to leave.

On the way home, Vinnie bought Sonny a big steak dinner to make up for the previous night. By the time they got home, it was dark.

Sonny was more exhausted than he’d ever known. He literally dropped into bed. Awhile later, he was dozing on his side. He felt Vinnie climb in, move up against his back, wrap an arm around his waist. Vinnie said into the back of his head, “You scared me.”

The morning seemed a lifetime ago. Now Vinnie was surrounding him, grounding him, holding him together. “I’m not crazy,” Sonny murmured.

“Of course not.” Vinnie’s warm breath ruffled his hair.

“Then why did I find myself back there this morning? I don’t understand. I was there. I could hear it all, smell it all, see it all…the Rialto.”

“But it doesn’t mean…,” Vinnie protested.

“There’s a short-circuit in my brain. I don’t remember everything from that time, but then I do remember…a burning smell.” He took a deep breath. “Wanting…wanting…just to make it all go away.”

Vinnie was very still against him. It almost seemed like he’d stopped breathing.

Sonny continued. “That feeling of pure…like adrenalin, only…only it hurt worse than that. And there it was again this morning. The jolt…and I was back there…I was hitting you…I was crazy fucking outta my mind!” He turned. Vinnie’s arms came around him. He pressed his cheek alongside Sonny’s cheek.

Sonny bit his lower lip in frustration. “I’m going to be paying for my past forever, aren’t I?” he whispered.

Vinnie did not reply. After a minute, Vinnie’s arm came up and he stroked his hair. Sonny closed his eyes and fell asleep under the gentle weight of Vinnie’s hand.

*

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this work by Natasha Solten, you may also enjoy her m/m romances on Kindle under her non-fanfic name: Wendy Rathbone. Look for "The Foundling," "The Secret Sharer" and the soon to be released "None Can Hold the Dark" (due in fall 2013.) She also has an sf novel out, and a collection of poetry.


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